


Liar Liar

by Mistress-of-Spin (Johnlock13)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dark-ish Doctor, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Suggested Dubcon, consent given, consentual BDSM, dominant doctor, safeword
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:57:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlock13/pseuds/Mistress-of-Spin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor doesn't appreciate being lied to. No matter the circumstance. This is my attempt at the beginning of a fic. I may continue it, if there is enough feedback prompting me to do so. There is no dub-con or anything in this chapter. Just arguing and suggested future punishment/discipline. :P Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Territorial

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that *obviously*, this is not intended to have anything to do with the production of our beloved show. It it merely a story, written by a smitten fan. :)

"Goodness had nothing to do with it." The Doctor frowned, but managed to maintain a composure that seemed indifferent. As he turned to enter the TARDIS, Clara found herself wondering what it was, exactly, he meant. Pausing once more to look around, she sighed, and followed him quickly.

*****  
“Clara,” He spoke as he flipped the odd switch and the TARDIS whirred into action. He furrowed his brow and spun himself around, heading towards his chair atop the far set of stairs. “Why did you lie?” He inquired, looking as though he was busying himself in an attempt to avoid making eye contact.

"You said yourself, people respond quicker and are braver, if they have h-" The Doctor waved her silent and turned, climbing down the stairs. His eyes met hers, adorning an expression that seemed foreign for him.

"No. Why did you lie, to -me-?" He placed his arms on either side of her, trapping her against the centre console. His words escaped almost as a carnal growl. Was he genuinely this upset? He’d lied to her on many occasions. Why then, was this such a big deal?

"You.. You can’t seriously.." She glanced to her side as his hands hit the console. He was close, too close for his current state. But Clara couldn’t help the smirk that crept along her red stained lips. "You’re -jealous-." She crossed her arms, trying to remain unaffected by the Doctor’s motions.

It was his turn, now, to replicate the smug look his companion wore oh so well. “I prefer, -territorial-.” His accent escaped a little more than usual, and he made no move to back off. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, Clara.” He straightened his back and removed one of his hands from the console.

"You lie to me all the time." She retorted. Must they fight? Today had gone so well. She kept her arms crossed. She was never one to back down from an argument.

He arched a brow and looked down the line of his nose, as if appalled by the notion. “To keep you safe. It’s different.” He waved his hand dismissively.

"Maybe I was trying to keep you safe." She allowed her hands to drop to her sides, her tone taking on much more emotion now. She suddenly found herself wishing him closer, wishing that things hadn’t become so complicated. "I shouldn’t have lied, Doctor. I’m sorry.. I j-" Again, he cut her short with a wave of his hand. He seemed in deep thought for an instant, before finally, and it felt like forever, he placed his hand back on the console, trapping her again.

"There are some places, Clara, where the punishment for lying, is death." He arched a brow and bowed his head, seeming to look up at her in a glare that could only be described as both intimidating and.. Arousing? Damn it. "You have a choice," He paused, knowing she would make a futile attempt to argue.

"You can’t.. What? No! Take me home! Now, Doctor." She tried to push his hand away, and he let her, stepping back but keeping that dark, knowing smirk on his face.

"You can go." He motioned towards the door to the TARDIS nonchalantly. "And never return," He watched as she paused and turned to give him a look of pure emotional desperation and shock. He knew she would never do such a thing, not Clara. Therefor, she was left with option two. "Or," Her brows raised inquisitively and, as if to the tune of her thoughts, his smile faded and his expression became darker. "You can stay, and take whatever it is I deem fit, with not so much as a-"

"Docto-"

"Ah ah.." He brought a slender finger to his lips, his playful demeanour returning momentarily. "Not so much as a -peep-." He finished, leaning on the rail and awaiting her decision.


	2. Who Owns the TARDIS?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heated argument in the TARDIS, following previous events. The Doctor reveals that he has been keeping track of Clara, in more ways that she knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.. I've decided to make this story a tad longer than anticipated. It may seem like a substantial delay before all of the smutt, but I promise it's worth it! At least... I hope. xD

Clara exchanged looks between the her feet, and the door of the TARDIS, which seemed further away than usual. What was he getting at? He wasn't -actually- going to discipline her.. She wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't make her leave.. Not over this.. But still, she remained silent, unsure of herself. Turning her back to the door of the TARDIS, her exit, she looked towards the man who had distanced himself to the top of the stairs. 

He leaned casually, gripping the rails and keeping his eyes on his companion. He quite enjoyed watching her internal turmoil extend to her facial expression. As she turned towards him, he arched his brow. "Ah, Clara.." He spoke finally, moving towards his chair from which he could see the universe, if he so desired. "During our travels," He sat down in his chair and steepled his hands beneath his chin. "You seem to have forgotten which one of us," Freeing his hand from its position momentarily, he motioned between the two of them. "Is in charge." His voice dropped to a low, gravelly pitch.

Clara fought to urge to bite her lip at the change in tone, deciding instead to shove her hands in her pockets and cast a wary glance downwards. There was much she had to say, of course, but she didn't want to leave. Why? Why didn't she want to leave? He would simply drop her off, and return in a few weeks like he had after the previous row.. Right? But was she willing to take that chance?

"Look around you, Clara." He held both his hands up, looking around himself at their immediate surroundings. "Where are you?" His gaze fell back on her, cold, inquisitive. "Go on, answer me." He lifted both palms towards her as if to draw the answer from her core.

She grabbed at a piece of tissue in her pocket absentmindedly, as her answer seemed to escape with much less confidence than usual. "The TARDIS.. We're in the TARDIS." She kept her eyes cast downwards.

He remained silent for a moment, tilting his head to the side as if to study her. Her cheeks had become red, and she seemed unsure of herself. Something that was rare, and oh so beautiful. "And who does the TARDIS belong to?" He continued. 

It was at this point that Clara looked up at the Doctor questioningly. "Doctor.. What, exactly, are you getting at?" She furrowed her brow, feeling as though she was a child being chastised.

Ah, there she was, the little fighter had returned, stubborn as always. He decided to ignore her transgression and file it for later, but glared at her fiercely, as if warning her of the thin ice she so carelessly tread on. "Answer me." He demanded, ignoring her confusion.

She had swiftly received the silent message that she had overstepped whatever boundary was placed before her. This was not a side of the Doctor she was accustomed to.. He was taking charge, something Clara would never have allowed before.. What made it so different now? "You.. The TARDIS belongs to you." She answered, as if scripted to do so.

He smiled, and pushed himself up from the chair, climbing briskly and smoothly down the stairs to where she stood. "Right. Good." His tone seemed indifferent. "So," He flipped another switch, to which the TARDIS responded with a low humming noise. "It would be safe to assume," Another switch, after which he moved closer to her, placing his hand inches from hers. The somewhat jovial expression he had whilst fiddling with the TARDIS was immediately wiped, and he now glared down at his companion with the ferocity of a stalking predator. "That -I- make the rules, and the consequences for those that choose to break them." His brow lifted and he tilted his head, awaiting some sort of response. His face was now inches from hers, and he could feel her breath, hot, quickening in pace. Her pupils were blown to a new proportion. Beautiful. 

"I.. Well yes.. I suppose that makes sense.." She felt the reflex in her lower abdomen, pulling her legs together silently. He was serious. If only he knew... The dreams she'd had, the nights she'd shared in her bed with thoughts of him. No.. This wasn't the time, nor the place to think of that, but his proximity to her was making it futile. 

With his free hand, the Doctor pulled one of the various screens to the side allowing them both to observe its stream. Having used her memory to steer the TARDIS a while back, had also confirmed his theories. "Such vivid imagery.." He noted, as one of her many fantasies came to life before their very eyes via the TARDIS.


	3. A Dream come true

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara's dream/fantasy, displayed via the TARDIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published at the same time as Ch 2. Enjoy! More to come soon, again, if the feedback requests! :)

*****  
Clara was knelt, before the center console of the TARDIS, her legs spread evenly. Her hands were placed, palms up, on each of her thighs. She was bare, save for the thin metal collar which hugged her neck, just tight enough to serve as a constant reminder of its presence. Her head bowed, she seemed focused on maintaining her breath, and remaining still. The image was truly striking. Her hair fell neatly over her left shoulder, just long enough to settle its ends on her breast. 

A faint tapping noise emitted from the top of the stairs, the beginning of which made Clara shudder visibly. The mysterious sound was then followed by the heavy footsteps of the Doctor, who made his way slowly down the stairs from his chair. Clara allowed her eyes to flicker upwards, catching a glimpse of his boots as he drew nearer. The tapping sound was thus solved as the Doctor could now be seen wielding a thin crop, and was seemingly testing it against his free hand as he looked upon his companion. The elegance and grace with which he strode towards her, was not unlike him. But his facial expression seemed to match that which watched the dream from the present time. 

"You have been deliberately rude, Clara." The Doctor began, circling the kneeling girl like a hawk spotting its prey. "Assuming that, because there were others around, you'd not be held responsible for your actions." He tutted as he ran the edge of the crop along the center of her back, causing her to inhale abruptly. "How foolish.." He chastised. "What do you have to say for yourself?" The Doctor stopped and stood mere feet from her, his feet spread shoulder width apart. 

"Please, forgive me, Doctor. I..." Clara slumped her shoulders but kept her hands in their proper position. "Please.. I'll be a good girl, I promise." Her voice held none of its usual confidence, and she seemed, broken. 

"You know what happens when you misbehave, Clara." He crossed his arms and glanced down upon her whilst keeping his chin up. "Pleading doesn't work, you know that." He uncrossed his arms and used the end of the crop to guide her chin upwards, so that her eyes met his. "Turn, and place your hands on the console." He ordered, removing the crop swiftly from under her chin and motioning her to move. "You will count. Out loud." He growled as she placed her hands obediently on the console and exposed her back to him, along with her smooth behind. Taking a long stride forward, he grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back to rest near his crotch area. "When you can no longer stand the pain, you will beg. You will beg me to have mercy on you." He smiled as her brown eyes widened, releasing his grip and stroking her cheek lightly. "You will learn, Clara. Someday." He leaned down to kiss her forehead lightly, before stepping back and readying himself.

*****


	4. In this together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long! Family and work and whatnot! I'll be quicker next time I promise! :3

Clara stared, wide eyed as ever, as the TARDIS displayed one of many dreams she'd had over the course of the past few months. As the dream came to an end, the screen went ominously dark, and there was an eery silence before either of them spoke. 

"Shakespeare." Clara blurted out, splitting the silence abruptly. 

"I'm sorry?" The Doctor took a step back from the screen, his triumphant smile fading ever so slightly. 

"Urm.." Clara drove her hands in her pockets, choosing to keep her eyes cast downwards as she clarified. "That's.." She cleared her throat and found herself taking a deep breath, as if convincing herself to speak. "That's my safeword." She admitted finally.

His expression played quickly through the emotions of confusion, immediate understanding, and acceptance, before returning to the sinister smirk he'd worn as they'd observed her dream. "Perfect." He removed both his hands from the console and began flipping switches again as he posed his next series of questions. "Before we begin, then, I must make sure you consent. Although I'm sure we both know the answer. I need to hear it." He neared her again, taking her hand in his gently. His expression softened as he kissed the top of her hand. "I'm not an evil man, Clara. But rest assured.. I will not be gentle." He arched a brow as she began to blush, her body trembling slightly at his words. "Say it, Clara. Or I will go no further." He raised both brows now, waiting for the clear consent of his companion.

"I .. You have my consent.. Doctor." She stammered, images already beginning to flash through her mind. He knew.. He'd known all along. She'd caught his stare lingering throughout their travels, but never would have assumed this. 

He moved her hand down to her side before releasing it, as if to hold on to the gentle moment for as long as possible. As their contact was severed momentarily, he moved his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Outwardly, this would seem like a compassionate gesture, and it was, somewhat. As the strand of hair was returned to its proper place, he allowed his palm to snake down her chest, resting on her breast. 

Her breath hitched, as she made an effort to touch him, to return the gesture. Her attempt was met with a firm grasp on her wrist, and a force which pushed her back to the console. 

"I see there are many lessons you have yet to be taught, Clara. My Clara." He purred, moving his head so that his mouth was inches from her ear. "I want your clothes folded neatly on this console, and I want you," He paused to let out a small chuckle as her mouth dropped open ever so slightly. "On your knees, right there." He pointed to the spot, just below the stairs, where she had knelt in her dream. He took a step back, removing his touch and looking down at her as she began to unbutton her shirt. "You have five minutes, Clara. -Don't- make things worse for yourself." He turned his back to her and headed down the stairs to the bottom floor of the TARDIS. 

"Right." She nodded and continued to remove her clothing. She paused as he turned once more after she'd spoken. 

"I'm sorry?" He raised both brows but made no effort to move towards her. "Care to repeat? I may have misheard.." 

"I.." He wasn't joking. She could feel the knot in her stomach and the heat between her legs as she finally realized what was about to happen. "Yes, Doctor." She bowed her head, attempting a sign of submission. 

"Mmm, better." He turned again, allowing his coat to trail behind him as he continued down the stairs and out of sight. Clara shuddered at the gravelly pitch in his voice.

Clara made haste in removing her clothing and folding it neatly onto the console as ordered. It seemed as though the TARDIS temperature had increased, and she found herself grateful. Still, she was extremely exposed, and took a moment to look around cautiously before moving to her designated spot at the foot of the stairs. She stood upright for an instant, taking a deep breath and convincing herself that this wasn't a dream. Slowly, she knelt, keeping her legs tightly together, as if to hide herself as much as possible in her current state. 

It was silent. She couldn't hear him moving, couldn't hear the TARDIS humming, and thus was left to her thoughts. What was he going to do to her? How long had he planned this? How long had he been watching her? 

The heavy footsteps came from behind her, and she found herself straightening her posture immediately. He had climbed the stair case closest to the door of the TARDIS. Silence, again. 

"Well done, Clara." He praised, his voice like silk. The way he pronounced her name enough to intensify the heat between her thighs. The footsteps continued now, coming closer. She fought the urge to turn around. She trusted him, always, but this was a side of him she would've never fathomed. He was, however, still the Doctor, still a man she trusted with every fibre in her being. She felt his fingers in her hair, brushing it to the side, and over her shoulder gently. The cool sensation of metal eliciting a shudder. 

He fastened the silver collar around her neck, clasping it at the back and running his fingers along the engraving on the side. 'Impossible Girl'. The front of the collar was equipped with a sturdy ring, and a small blue tag shaped like the TARDIS. 

"The key difference, Clara," He began, almost in a lecturing tone. "is that, this is no dream." The heavy footsteps paced around her until she could see his boots, given her downwards glance. "The patterns of your desire, the events with which you truly wish this to play out, don't exist." He was busying himself as he spoke, locking a set of handcuffs to each railing aside the stairs. "The pain you shut out, the point in which you decide to awaken, are no longer viable options." The whir of the sonic sounded softly and was followed by an affirming chuckle. "A mess of chemicals, as usual, I see.." He purred, placing the sonic in his pocket. 

Clara remained still, his words echoing through her, all of which were correct. This was not her scenario to control, not anymore. And the fear which accompanied that realization, only served to fuel her arousal. As she heard the distinctive sound of metal on metal, she found herself taking a breath, slightly deeper than normal. 

"Come, Clara." The Doctor stood now, on the very bottom step and pointed to the ground at his feet. "Let's not delay this any longer." She could easily hear the purr in his voice. Casting a wary glance upwards, she noticed that he had taken his signature jacket off, and was now in his white undershirt and black pants. She fought the urge to moan appreciatively at the sight before her. 

"I may move through time, Clara, but I certainly don't have the patience for this. Come!" He growled, watching as she jumped and moved onto her hands and knees before him. She crawled the very few feet forward it took to arrive, and sat back on her heels. Should she apologize? No.. He'd said no speaking.. She kept her gaze downwards, listening to the tag on her collar let out a small clinking noise. 

"Right, give me your hand." He held out his own hand expectantly, palm up, and was met with her's, however hesitantly. He noted her fear, and handled his next movements slowly. "We will grow together in this, my Clara. I need you to trust me, yea?" His voice lost its streak of dominance in order to validate that it was, in fact, still the man she loved, and trusted.


End file.
